The air in the room shifted. I drew a blade, the steel tip resting at Roccurem’s throat as the fate solidified. “One move and your blood will decorate this table. Am I clear?” The fate stood very still. Xavier leaped to his feet, his weapon appearing in his hand. I had felt Roccurem’s arrival, but Xavier had not, and he was none too happy about it. Xavier flanked me on my left, ready to defend his king. Papers settled as the air rectified itself. “You will not find your queen in articles or by questioning mortals with poor eyesight.” My hand flexed on the handle of my blade. “Where is she?”
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